Beginnings
by mike2003ekim
Summary: Mark Lestrange's year of Hogwarts. Definately more to come.


Disclaimer: Alright, so I don't own Hermione Granger, nor do I own the name of Lestrange. Both are owned by J.K. Rowling, and she got rich off of names like these.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Mark sat up in bed one morning, feeling the radiating warmth of the sun pouring down onto his back. He pulled his legs over the side of his bed and stood up. Stretching and yawning, he crossed his room in a few steps and opened the window wide. It was the last day of summer, and he enjoyed the fact that the sun was still shining.  
Placing his hands on the windowsill, he carefully scanned the neighbourhood, his deep blue eyes taking in everything that was happening. Glancing down at his watch, he noticed that it was already 11:00.  
"Frig," he said, grabbing his suitcase and quickly stuffing it full of clothes. He figured that his mother would have been home by now. She said that she would be back by last night; this morning at the latest. His mother was away on business in Ireland, trying to buy out a major tea company settled there.  
Rushing to the bathroom, he pushed open the door and grabbed a brush. He rapidly swung it through his short, brown hair. The brush was back on the counter in a matter of seconds, and gel was being rubbed through his hair not long after that. When he was satisfied with the spikes, he ran back to his room and pulled off his clothes.  
Mark was a very fit person, due to his favorite sport that he played all of the time, Quidditch. He was a Beater for the Ravenclaw team. In the game of Quidditch, it was his job to stop the Bludgers from hitting his own players. He would then try to reflect the Bludgers at the opposing team in an attempt to knock them off their broom. Last year, Mark was given the position of captain. His mother was nothing short of pleased.  
Being a "half-blood" wizard, as those bloody Voldemort followers call them, wasn't exactly easy. Since his first year, he had to try as hard as he could both mentally and physically. In all of Hogwarts, you would not find a busier student. Mark had to prioritize his time around being the captain of the Quidditch team, and being a Prefect.  
"Double-frig!" he shouted, noticing that he had not yet received the school supplies list. He still needed to go to Diagon Alley to pick up his new books and new robes.  
"You're growing too fast," his mother complained about the seventeen year old, who had now reached six foot four inches. He was at least a foot taller than his mother.  
After pulling a shirt over his head, he leaned out the window again, this time scanning the empty sky. He forced himself back into his room, where he paced around the middle of it. He grabbed a pair of pants sitting on his bed and stepped into them.  
A rustling of feathers at the window signified an owl coming into his room. He turned about sharply and ran to the owl, almost knocking it out of the window. It hooted in a shameful sort of way, and flew off once Mark untied the letters.  
The first letter he opened included his set of books. He need to get "The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7" by Miranda Gawshank, and "Advanced Transfiguration". A second letter, also from Hogwarts, told him that this was his last year of school. He would be able to sit and listen to a number of different people in different career choices. A couple of choices rang clearly in his mind. The first was to be a Quidditch player, but his mother had decided that he was too smart to be that. The second was Minister for Magic, which he had wanted to be since he was eight years old.  
A third letter also boar the Hogwarts crest. It was weighted a little more than the other two letters, and had a slight bulge in the back of it. He opened it up and pulled out a badge that had the letters "HB" on it, surrounded by the four animals of Hogwarts. He opened the letter and read the explanation of the badge.  
  
Dear Mark Lestrange,  
  
I am very pleased to inform you that you have received the greatest honour that Hogwarts can present. You have been given the title Head Boy. I know that this is a lot to ask of you, as you are now the captain of the Quidditch team and the Head Boy of the school. However, if anyone can manage it, that would be you. I look forward to seeing you again.  
  
Sincerely,  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Mark dropped the letter and gaped out of the window. He was completely shocked with the proposition that he be made Head Boy. He immediately thought of a few people that he should write to, and sought for a quill and some ink. He ravaged the desk for a few second, than dipped the quill carefully into the ink. He dangled the quill just above the parchment, than scribbled furiously.  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
Guess what! I've been made Head Boy! I can't believe that . what an honour. I'm sure that you've been told that you're Head Girl by now. I'm excited for you!  
Right now, I'm just waiting for my mom to get back. She had to go to Ireland on Friday, and she isn't back yet! It's 12:00 right now, so hopefully I'll be out of Diagon Alley by 5:00. That is, if my mom even shows up.  
If I don't see you today in Diagon Alley, make sure that we meet up at school. I know that we have to be doing all the Head Boy and Girl stuff, but I'm sure we could skive off part of the feast. I've missed you over the summer. Hope you had a great time in Greece, Hermione!  
  
Love ya lots,  
Mark  
  
Mark stood up upon finishing and quickly made his way downstairs. The living room had two owl cages, both of them empty. His mother's owl stood on top of her cage, hooting quietly. He turned around and ran into the kitchen, looking on top of the fridge.  
"There you are," he said happily, removing his barn owl from the top of the fridge. He had named his owl Orion, after the great hero. He was now nibbling at Mark's ear affectionately. Mark made his way to his room now the Orion was secured on his shoulder. Halfway up the stairs, he heard a car coming into the driveway. He took the steps two at a time and launched himself into his room, while Orion gave a shrill hoot and took flight.  
The owl landed on the windowsill, ruffling its feathers indignantly. Mark folded the letter carefully and tied it to Orion's leg, hearing the front door open. He held Orion on his forearm and allowed it to fly off into the sky.  
"Oh yeah!" he called to Orion. "Go to Hermione!"  
Orion hooted loudly to show it understood, and Mark turned around and headed out his door. He stepped out into the hall and made his way downstairs. He heard the unmistakable sound of his mother singing. She wasn't very good, but Mark felt safe when he heard it. His mother had sung to him when he was little. "Hey mom," he said, smiling. "How was Ireland?" "Honey! You're up!" his mother replied. "Have you eaten yet? We still have to get to Diagon Alley!"  
"I know that, mom," Mark said, somewhat exasperated. His mother, Nancy, had always put him before herself, which made him feel guilty. She was the president of the largest tea company in Britain. Although they had a lot of money, Mark's mother never stopped working. She didn't stop to be pampered or spend time in the most expensive restaurants. Mark respected that in a person. "Mom, stop worrying about me. How was Ireland? Did you get the deal?"  
"Hmm?" she said, now cracking eggs into a pan. "Oh that. Well, we got the deal, but it was more than we expected. We paid nearly double what their original offer was."  
"Really?" Mark questioned, reaching into the fridge for the milk. "Sit down, I'll handle this. You've had a long trip. Yesterday, I contacted the Ministry about the Floo network, and they've connected our fire from 11:00 until 7:00 tonight."  
"Good," Nancy said, taking a seat and lighting a cigarette. "You know, I never understood why they couldn't connect us in the first place. I'm a Muggle, sure, but you're a wizard. But I guess the Ministry has its reasons. Have you gotten your Hogwarts letter yet?"  
Mark smiled broadly and turned away from the oven to face his mother. She got up and walked over to him.  
"Are you really?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be.  
"I'm Head Boy!" Mark replied excitedly.  
"That's brilliant! My little Mark. Oh, you've grown up so quickly. Next year you'll be joining the Ministry, I take it. I don't want you to be a Quidditch played for a living."  
Mark rolled his eyes subtly and returned to the eggs. He flipped them carefully, than put some bread into the toaster. Nancy rushed into the next room and pulled an owl off of one of the cages. This was his mother's owl, whom she had named Ailus. She came back into the kitchen and set it on the counter.  
"Now who should I write to first?" she asked happily.  
"I don't know, mom," Mark said, sounding a little agitated. "Don't write anything now, because breakfast is ready, then we have to go to Diagon Alley."  
"Fine, fine," she grumbled, stuffing the parchment, quill and ink into a drawer beneath the counter. Mark placed a plate of eggs, toast and hash browns in front of her. "Smells good, hun."  
When they finished eating, Nancy and Mark went upstairs to finish packing all of his stuff. Mark piled his books and clothes messily on top of each other. His mother pulled it all out and tried to pack it in neatly.  
"Oh I swear, when you're out on your own, you'll be a pig," she joked. "You really should learn to keep your things neat. Go on, use your wand to do it."  
Mark waved his wand in circles and his clothes, books, quills, ink and parchment jammed themselves into his suitcase. Nancy assured him that he would get better at this and that they would pack it neatly when they got home. The two stepped out into the hall, walked down the stairs, and stopped in front of an elegant fireplace. It was a large, brick fireplace, surrounded by a wooden arch. Mark took a beautiful jar off the mantle and grabbed a handful of some dust.  
He handed this dust to his mother, who stepped into the fireplace.  
"Remember to get out at the right grate," Mark reminded her. "Oh, and keep your elbows in. Say, 'Diagon Alley', than drop the Floo powder. Don't get out too early, ok?"  
His mother nodded in an understanding manner. "Diagon Alley!" she said, loudly and clearly. She then dropped the Floo powder and disappeared.  
Mark took a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace, just as his mother had. He looked around the room and thought of the time he may spend in Diagon Alley. His mind wandered to Hermione, and he smiled widely.  
"Diagon Alley," he shouted with a snicker, and with a licking green flame, he disappeared from his house.  
  
Author's Note: This is only my first fanfic, so it probably isn't as good as many of the ones that some of you have read. I'm going to try and make more than just this chapter for sure. I would like some feedback on some stuff in particular. Did you like the main character? Did you think it was too long? Did you think it lacked in detail? A few things that will be explained later: His relationship with Hermione, his father, his aunt (Bellatrix . I know, long story), why he wants to be Minister for Magic, and a bunch of other things besides. Sure to be a good, long story! 


End file.
